


Love of My Afterlife

by emerald_peach



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Happy Ending, I swear this is a happy story, Light Angst, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Some Humor, some mentions of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:13:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26296237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emerald_peach/pseuds/emerald_peach
Summary: Death had seen millions of souls pass over to their new eternity, you either were damned to Hell or saved by Heaven. Yet one soul refused to go either way, and instead planted himself near the entrance, waiting for his immortal love to join him. Alec Lightwood might actually be the death of... Death.I promise this is a happy story!
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 75
Kudos: 380





	1. Chapter 1

When Death came to collect souls, it was used to fear, or denial, or even the deceased begging on their knees to not take them yet. However, Death was on a schedule, and with millions of souls to collect there wasn’t any time to slow down. This soul was being stubborn, insisting it wasn’t their time. Sighing, Death gripped their wrist and dragged them, couldn’t they see time was ticking? The soul kicked and screamed, and Death couldn’t help but wonder if this weak soul knew. They had lived a life of crime and sin, and they would be spending their eternity in Hell. Crossing over the bridge the soul continued to cry for forgiveness, but Death was not the deity to decide where they go, it just delivered them. With one hand Death reached into its cloaks pocket, grabbing the pocket watch. This soul needed to be delivered 45 seconds ago, that meant 45 seconds more than another soul due to die was living. Irritated, Death threw the soul down the pit into Hell, it listened to the soul scream as it fell, until blissfully it was silent. 

There were only two places for a soul to reside, down into Hell, or to climb the stairway into Heaven. Past that, Death had no idea what happened to the souls. That wasn’t its job to know. 

Death was running late though, its pocket watch indicating that another soul needed to pass. A Shadowhunter this time. Shadowhunter deaths were incredibly common within its species, but being outnumbered by mere mundane souls, Death only occasionally met a Shadowhunter, and each one took their place in heaven with such righteous arrogance, that Death was sickeningly happy to toss down a small army of Shadowhunters into Hell. Their names were of little importance to Death, but the odd thing of these souls were the circle runes that adorned their necks. It had never seen that on a Shadowhunter before, and had not seen another since. 

This Shadowhunter would die like many ancestors prior, alone on the battlefield. Death found himself in an alleyway, a bloodied Shadowhunter at his feet. The man was gasping as he choked on his own blood.  _ This  _ is why Death likes to be on time, so as to not leave the soul trapped in a broken human shell, writhing in agony. Death kneeled down over the Shadowhunter, the man looked back up at Death and it did not see fear in this poor creature's eyes. Instead, Death found acceptance and peace, like the man had done everything he had wanted to and was content with his passing. Death reached into the man’s chest and pulled the soul out of it’s mortal body. The body gasped it’s last breath and slumped onto the concrete. The soul glanced at the corpse, seeming surprised at this turn of events. 

  
  


The soul turned to Death and sighed, “It’s time to go now, isn’t it?” 

Death nodded. 

“I don’t get to say goodbye?” 

Death shook its head. There was no such thing as a goodbye, just a temporary separation before reunited again. This man’s family were Shadowhunters, they would join this soul shortly. Death grabbed the soul’s hand and walked him into the afterlife. The soul quietly studied his surroundings, not seeming to be alarmed by its cavernous appearance. The dark red rocky path led to a stone bridge across a river. To where the river led, not even Death knew. At the end of the bridge were two paths, to the left led to the steep cliff into Hell, to the right a golden staircase to Heaven. 

Death pointed to the stairway, granting this soul’s ascent into eternal bliss, the soul contemplated the stairs then shook his head. “I can’t go yet, there are people I left behind. I need to wait for them.” The soul turned around and sat on the bank of the river. 

Death stood in shock, in its eons of existence not once had a soul ever refuse entrance into Heaven. It stalked towards the soul and tapped onto his shoulder, the soul looked back, and Death pointed again to the stairway. 

“No. I have to make sure everyone I love is allowed to be there too. Until then, I am staying here.” 

Death had never not delivered a soul to its promised place, and it wasn’t about to start with this stubborn Nephilim. It reached down and yanked on Alec’s arm, hauling him to the stairway. The Shadowhunter protested, demanding to be put down. Death dragged him up the stairs one by one, then the soul grabbed the stairway banister, stopping Death’s progress. 

“I’m not leaving!” The soul bellowed. 

Growling, Death dropped the soul, and the man scurried down the stairs, glaring at Death when he reached the bottom. It reached into its cloak for the watch, and saw it was time to go. Death would just have to deal with this errant soul later. The man seemed satisfied with Death’s lack of pursuit, and sat down again on the bank of the river. 

Death crossed the bridge once again, this time landing in Ontario, at a motor vehicle accident. The man who T-boned the little convertible had minor injuries, but was unconscious. The other driver was who Death was here for though. A small woman, who looked to have lived a few decades, still far too young for Death to be seeing her, but it was her time nonetheless. 

She went easily with Death, a few tears but walked with her head held high. On the way to the bridge she spoke of how she had finally got the courage to leave her abusive husband, that she was going too fast on the road in her panic to be far away by the time he got home and noticed her missing. Death was pleased when it was able to lead her to Heaven, a torn down soul finally able to be safe once again. With a small wave she walked up the stairs, never looking back. 

That’s how it was supposed to be. Death glanced back towards the river to see if the man was still there or if he had finally gained some sense to ascend. The man had found a stick as was absently drawing runes in the black sand, his back leaning against a large rock along the bank. Death once again went to him and pointed towards the stairs. 

“Sorry, I can’t leave yet.” He shrugged, he looked towards the bridge, his expression heartbroken. “They have to know I’m dead by now. I have a parabatai, you know? I know he’s going to blame himself.” 

Death had heard of these parabatai’s before, a soul bond. Even now it could see the remnants of the other Shadowhunter in this man. Flashes of gold hair, the sweet song of a piano, and the overwhelming devotion to each other. Of course that is who this man waited for. Death resigned itself to the fact that this man would not be easily swayed, but it had years to try. 

  
  
  


Thus began a new routine between the two, Death would make several trips taking souls to their eternity, while the Nephilim sat and waited. Every day Death would try to coax him up the stairs, and every day it was rejected. Death began to get used to the soul, his unrelenting spirit almost comforting in the lonely afterlife. It assumed that eventually this soul would get tired of waiting, and would find his way on his own, yet Death watched a year go by, two years, then ten. The Shadowhunter never strayed from his spot. Death almost wanted to go find this man's family, just to see how much longer he would have to wait, but the man seemed content where he was, in no rush for his family’s death. 

It wasn’t until twelve years after the Shadowhunters death did Death finally get a name for this strange man. He was drawn back to New York, where another Shadowhunter woman was slain by a rogue werewolf. She had dark ebony hair, and blood red lips, and when Death pulled the soul from her body she immediately said, “Where is my brother?” 

Death could see the similarities within the two, and it felt almost giddy that it might bring that man a member of his family. He walked her over the bridge, when she saw the man by the river she stopped, and Death could see her soul practically glow with joy. 

“Alec!” She yelled, sprinting towards the man, he lifted his head and he looked horrified to see her. 

“Isabelle? What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to die yet.” He exclaimed, yet he caught her easily and held her close. 

“I’m so happy to see you!” Isabelle cried, if she were able to shed tears, Death knew she would. 

“How long has it been? What happened to you?” Alec asked. 

“Twelve horrible years. We all missed you so much, nothing was the same when you died.” 

Alec sobered, “How is Jace? And mom, and…” he trailed off.

Isabelle sighed, “Jace didn’t handle it well, it took a solid year before he was able to go back on patrol, but Clary was there for him. Oh Alec! You should see their little boy, he is gorgeous! Oliver Alexander Herondale.” 

Alec’s face was unspeakably soft, but hardened when Death loomed near. It set its hand on her shoulder and pointed to the stairway. 

“Does Alec get to come with me?” 

_ He should be.  _ Death thought, but it did not think Alec was done with his wait.

“Not yet, Iz. I have to make sure  _ everyone  _ can come with me.” 

Isabelle nodded but she still looked sad, another bitter farewell to her beloved brother. She reached up and kissed his cheek. “See you soon, brother.” 

“Hopefully not too soon.” Alec joked and watched as Isabelle took her journey to Heaven. When she was out of sight he turned back to Death. “It was good to see her, even if I didn’t want to see her. If that makes sense.” Sighing, he sat back down by the river bank.

The routine continued. 

  
  
  
  


Death had a tough soul to take today, a child not yet four years old. This small soul had crossed the street on her tricycle and the driver didn’t have any time to stop. It was truly all about timing, had the little girl eaten her apples with her peanut butter sandwich she would have spent more time at the table, gone on her bike later, and would have never met that car on the road. Death wondered what the child could have achieved with her life if she had just eaten her apples. After he led the little girl to Heaven, he saw Alec staring at him, and Death was surprised to see pity on his face. This was a job, one that it had to do, no one had felt sorry for Death before

Only for the lives it took. 

  
  
  
  


It wasn’t for another thirty years until Death took another one of Alec’s family, his mother from what Death could gather. It was a heartfelt reunion as she fussed over Alec, fixing his hair and straightening his shirt. Though Alec never told her he would not be passing over, she seemed to know, and had left him by the bank after hugging him close. A mother’s intuition. 

The curiosity over the young man burned bright within Death, the flames hotter than what even Hell could provide. It had long since given up on convincing Alec to leave, it knew it would be unsuccessful. It was able to pick up crumbs of information from their brief interactions, yet the man remained a mystery. Death did not see a person’s whole life, many times did not even know their name, it only saw the moments before the end, and could feel the stories within the soul. Sorting between Heaven and Hell came from a higher power, and it was not Death’s job to know why. 

  
  
  


Death had brought several other friends to Alec throughout the years, a werewolf woman, a grumpy vampire, a Shadowhunter or two. Yet, those were not the ones Alec sat guard for. It had to be close though, for even if this young Shadowhunter had lived he would have soon died anyway, decades have passed since his murder. 

  
  
  


A stormy night brought Death to Idris, the home of Shadowhunters. In a bed lay an elderly man, one and clutching to who Death assumed was his wife, and the other hand his son. The younger man had tears in his eyes and he leaned his head down near his father’s shoulder. 

“Don’t cry, Ollie. I’m okay with this being my end, I lived much longer than I thought I was, and it was amazing. I got to have a parabatai, I fell in love with your mother, I watched you grow into an incredible man and warrior. To see you get to have those same experiences is everything I ever wanted. The only thing I regret is not being able to watch my parabatai have the life I got to live.” The elderly man murmured weakly. 

Tears ran down the woman’s face as she whispered, “You’ll see him soon. Tell him I loved him too, even though we both know he’d never believe it.” 

Death reached for him, and the soul happily went along. This was it, Alec’s parabatai. Death knew it to be true, their souls lighting in similar colors, the patterns that swirled within aligned. It could sense the arrogance in this one, a brash individual who accepted any challenge. Even dying.

As they walked to the bridge, the soul seemed nervous but determined to meet his fate. Death wasn’t quite sure why this soul thought he might go to Hell. It could see no evil inside. 

“Is Alec in Heaven?” The soul asked. 

Death shook his head no. 

The soul stopped, rage quickly spiking the air with its electricity.

“ _ Why?  _ What could he possibly have done? He advocated for equality and change! He was loved by everyone! Is it because he’s  _ gay? _ Are the angels really so cruel?” 

Death wasn’t even aware of the fact that Alec was gay. Gender, race, and sexual preference wasn’t something that changed dying, it didn’t make it more or less than any other individual. 

The soul clenched his teeth together, “Take me to Hell right now if that’s where my parabatai is. I’ll be damned if I let him endure it alone.” 

The soul raced towards the bridge, intent on finding his lost parabatai. This hard headed Shadowhunter was so focused on getting to Hell he did not even see Alec. 

“Jace?” He called out, confusion twisting his features.

Jace jerked to a stop and spun around, “Alec?” Jace seemed to walk to Alec in a daze, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was finally standing in front of his parabatai again. Alec didn’t have that problem, and he hugged Jace to him, almost violently. Jace gripped tightly to Alec, and thanked every angel he knew. 

“I heard from Izzy that you’re a dad. Congratulations. I know I’m a bit late on it.” Alec said, still smiling. 

“A grandfather too. Even as an old geezer they couldn’t catch up with me.” Jace said wryly, then sobered. “I’m so sorry, Alec.” 

“For what?” Alec asked. 

“You were alone that night. I should have been there with you. I was supposed to be there. I was supposed to die with you.” Jace choked out. 

Alec hugged Jace to him again, “Hey, I’m not mad. You don’t know how happy I am about how far you made it.” 

“It was agony when I felt our bond snap. No pain has ever compared.” Jace hung his head on Alec’s shoulder wearily. 

“You were never alone, Jace.” 

Death watched as the two continued to embrace, and a warm peace flowed through its body. The soul Alec was waiting for had come home, and it was time for Alec to now take his rightful place with the angels. Death walked closer to the pair, making its presence known. They bonded souls looked up at Death, and it pointed towards the stairway. A feeling of melancholy hit Death, it would miss this soul, and this game they played. 

Alec walked Jace to the golden stairs, Jace looked up in awe. Alec pulled him into another hug and whispered something in his ear. Jace stiffened and gawked at Alec incredulously, but Alec smiled reassuringly. 

“Be well, my parabatai.” Jace said, and Death watched as Jace ascended the stairs. 

Alone. 

Alec watched up the stairs for a few moments more before turning around and once again, wait by the river. What did this man want? His family and friends had passed, and now his parabatai. How many souls did Death have to carry before it finally found the one Alec was searching for? The tenacity of this Shadowhunter perplexed Death, what kept him waiting? 

  
  
  
  


Death began to wonder if perhaps Alec had missed a loved one's death, that a soul slipped by without his knowledge. It had been nearly one hundred and fifty years since his passing, and no mortal could ever dream of living that long. Death tried to drag Alec into Heaven again, and Alec dug his fingers into the gravely dirt to slow it down. No matter how hard Death tried to push him, this soul refused to budge. It had never seen anything like this before in its limitless existence. Eventually Death gave up, what did it matter if the Nephilim stayed by the shore for all eternity? He wasn’t bothering Death per se, only stinging its pride. 

In a blink of an eye to Death, another seventy years had passed, and this time he had a warlock to retrieve. Warlocks were incredibly rare for Death, not many of its kind and the immortality was a blight against Death’s reputation. On its way out to the bridge, Death could see Alec laying on his back, staring at the empty space above. He did not look irritated or bothered in the slightest, but Death could see his patience was finally wearing down. It had seen the way Alec began to pace, or drag his hands through his hair, though Death still admired the commitment, not like it would ever admit that to Alec.

  
  
  


A lonely loft in Brooklyn was Death’s destination, a warlock so famous that even Death knew him by name. Magnus Bane. Known for wicked parties, powerful magic, and luxurious tastes. Death had not heard much of the warlock for quite some time, Magnus had gone quiet for several decades. 

A demon or epic fight would not be what took down this immortal soul, instead it would be a potion gone wrong, exploding in his hands and killing him instantly. As Death entered the loft, it took the time to explore this warlock’s den. It would be a minute before the potion exploded, and for once Death had the time to spare. 

For the wild and mystifying reputation the warlock held, it was disappointed to see the loft was… boring. The couches were plain black leather, the walls painted a pristine white, very little decorated the place except for the photos hanging. It heard the warlock humming as he mixed the turmeric in his cauldron, and knew it was coming soon. A fatal mistake of mixing dragonfly wings instead of butterfly wings. 

It stepped towards the largest portrait on the wall, and inspected it closely. Death could see Magnus standing at an altar, hair slicked up in a spiky fashion, eyes lined with black. Magnus was holding hands with another gentleman, who was looking at Magnus as if he hung the stars.  _ Alec!  _ The soul that refused to leave! Death looked at another picture and saw Alec again, holding a bow, his face serious as he concentrated on his target. Everywhere Death looked it saw the face of Alec, him making a goofy face to the camera, lounging on the balcony, making breakfast in a chef’s apron. 

Death heard the explosion from the other room, and it pulled it out of its trance. It followed the trail of smoke and saw the warlock on the ground, limbs bent at an odd angle. This warlock looked nothing like the one in the photographs, he looked... _ less.  _ Less colorful, less powerful, and less happier. Death pulled the soul, and stood face to face with Magnus Bane. Husband of Alec. 

“That wasn’t meant to happen.” Magnus said, trying to make a joke. He jumped when he saw his body lying dead on the ground. “I died? Huh, I thought I’d die in a gloriously fashionable way. Not by fucking up my potion.” Magnus paled and backed away from Death. “I won’t join my father. I’ll do whatever I have to do, but I refuse to stand by him for all eternity.” 

Death was distracted though, its head spinning with the knowledge it had just learned, and for the first time in its existence it spoke, “There is someone special waiting just for you, Magnus Bane.” 

  
  
  
  


Magnus saw Alec first, and dropped to his knees in the middle of the bridge. Death kneeled beside him, gently pushing him towards Alec. “No, please don’t make me see him just to rip him away from me again. I can’t go through that again. I know I deserve Hell, but torture me any other way you can think of. Not like this though.” Magnus begged gruffly. At the sound of his voice Alec whipped his head towards the bridge, and in his eyes Death saw salvation. 

A sob tore from Magnus’s throat, “Alexander.” Magnus walked towards Alec as if being pulled by an invisible force. When Magnus stood in front of Alec they did not touch, did not even dare to reach for one another, and once again Death was left bewildered. This was Alec’s husband, surely this is the chosen soul.

“Alexander, my love. What are you doing here? You should be in heaven.” Magnus whimpered, still holding himself back. 

“I was waiting for you.” Alec replied, and gently he lifted his hand to stroke Magnus’s cheek, Magnus leaned into his touch.

“Darling, you don’t belong where I’m going. You need to leave.” 

“Then I’ll come with you. Don’t you get it? I can’t live without you.” Alec said, now cradling Magnus’s face. Suddenly he stiffened and pulled back, and Magnus chased his hands with his own. “Unless… it’s okay if you moved on. I wasn’t the first and I always knew I wouldn’t be the last.” 

Magnus shook his head, “I couldn’t love anyone else, everything inside of me died the day you did. You, Alexander Lightwood-Bane, are the love of my life.” Alec leaned down and captured Magnus’s lips against his own, and Magnus responded with vigor. When they finally parted, Magnus whispered against the Shadowhunters lips, “The love of my afterlife too.” 

Death hoped for the last time he led Alec to Heaven’s golden entrance, and pointed up the stairs. Alec bit his lip and deliberated, but for the millionth time shook his head, “Not without Magnus.” 

“Alec, hush. Go. You’ve earned this.” Magnus scolded, still holding onto Alec’s hand. 

“So have you, Magnus.” Alec declared, glaring at Death. It would never cease to be surprised by Alec’s determination. Death stared back and slowly nodded its head. Magnus Bane was never going to Hell, he had saved several lives, and had worked alongside the Shadowhunters for years with no personal gain. His demon blood did not make him more evil than any other human in the world. 

Magnus gasped, “You mean, I can go with Alec?” 

Again, it nodded. 

Alec smiled and pulled Magnus closer to his side, “Ready?” Magnus nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.

Finally, after years of waiting, Alec made his way up the stairs, towing his husband close behind. When the two were out of sight Death turned back around, ready for the next soul. It felt bare without Alec, and Death felt an unimaginable loss in its wake. It was the first time that Death had been left, the first time it had ever been attached to another soul. 

It heard the fast pace of someone running down the stairs and to its horror saw Alec, and Death tensed with the urge to fight him and his pigheadedness. Alec however threw his arms around Death, and gave it its very first hug. 

“Thanks.” Alec said then smiled at Death, a honeyed sweetness rolled pleasantly within itself. Alec turned to hurry back up to spend the rest of time by his husband’s side. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Magnus’s POV from chapter one. Mentions of death but it’s a happy ending! ☺️

“Six vampire fangs, two toad eyes, fairy dust, and river water from the Thames.” Magnus murmured, double checking the list before making the potion. A mermaid client of his had lost her voice, and had asked for him to make a tonic for her. A mermaid who couldn’t sing was very useless in their profession. He was rushing the order, to make sure he didn’t have any work left for the week. Him and Alec had the weekend free, and they would be traveling to a private island Magnus had acquired years ago. Magnus felt a thrill of delight rush through him at the thought of his husband lounging naked on the beach. Of course Magnus would need to put the sunscreen on for Alec, especially with all those hard to reach places…

He had to suppress his squeal, his chest squeezing in the sweetest of ways when you were in love. And Angels above, was he in love. It had never been this way before, and he had never thought it would have been possible for him. He liked to believe he was devoted to his past loves, and never made them feel less with his affections towards them, but he knew that if he were in a room filled with his past partners his eyes could still never leave Alec’s. 

Magnus stirred the potion into a boil, then turned down the flame, letting in simmer. It would need a few hours before it would be finished. He looked out the window and was surprised to see how dark it was. He checked the clock, and frowned. Alec was due home nearly an hour ago. Magnus pulled out his phone, and saw no texts or voicemails letting him know that Alec would be late. That wasn’t like his husband at all, he knew how Magnus worried about him when he was hunting, and he always made sure to tell Magnus if his plans had changed. 

A knot began to form in his throat.  _ Maybe his phone had been broken somehow.  _ Then that meant Alec was out by himself with no way to reach anyone if he were hurt. Magnus waited impatiently for Alec to pick up the phone, his worry turned to fear when it went to voicemail. 

_ Please. Not now.  _ Magnus begged internally to the Angels. He knew they would never listen to a warlock’s prayer, but it was heartfelt nonetheless. 

“Alec, it’s Magnus. I’m just calling because I haven’t heard from you yet, and you always tell me when you’re going to be late. Please, call me back as soon as you can. Please, Alexander, I’m- I’m  _ worried _ about you. I love you.” Magnus begged. He sat down on the living room couch, and stared at his phone. Willing for it to ring with Alec’s name flashing on the screen. He called again. And again. Then, he called Isabelle and he was sent to voicemail again. 

“It’s Magnus. I haven’t heard from Alec yet. Do you know where he is? I understand if he got tied up but I just need to know. Call me back as soon as you get this.” 

The minutes were agonizingly long, feeling like it had been hours. He didn’t want to seem clingy, and knew that Alec was fully capable in handling himself, but it didn’t matter, so he called several more times. To Alec, and Izzy, Jace. Even his mother. No one ever answered the phone. Alec was his  _ husband. _ If he were even in the slightest bit of trouble, Magnus needed to know. To build wards around him, to blast away demons, to heal if necessary. 

Around the time Magnus had picked up Alec’s shirt, ready to start tracking him, he heard a knock on his door. It was soft, very nearly quiet, and hesitant. Like the person didn’t want to be here. He sprinted to the door, pulling it open with more force than needed, and it banged against the wall. Standing on the side was Clary, her red hair unusually messy, her face pale, and her eyes were rimmed with red. 

Magnus had been alive for centuries, and had learned long ago to always trust your gut. Tonight it was telling him that something had been broken. That something was about to break. 

“What happened?” Magnus asked tersely. He did not move to the side to let her in, if his instincts were right, he would not be staying either. 

“Magnus, we need to talk.” She started, blinking back tears. 

“Where’s Alexander?” He asked, panic bubbling inside. 

“Look, sit down, and we can talk.” Clary said softly, she reached out to him imploringly. He took a step back and shook his head.

“No.  _ No.  _ What happened? Is my husband hurt?”  _ Just tell me quickly, so I can get to him. _

Clary bit her lip, “Magnus, Alec was hunting near Canal Street, we had heard of some trouble with Ravener demons, and Alec went out to check it out. Jace and I stayed back to keep an eye on the monitors to make sure there weren’t more crawling around in different areas. Suddenly Jace...he-” Clary stopped, holding her hand to her mouth. 

Magnus didn’t understand what she was trying to say at all. “Something happened to Jace?” That made sense. Alec felt his parabatai in trouble and went to help. Of course he would forget to let Magnus know, the worry for his brother overshadowing everything else. 

“Magnus, Jace felt his parabatai bond break.” Clary sobbed. “We found Alec in an alley, he’s at the Institute now. I figured you would want to say goodbye before his funeral ceremony.” 

“Why would I need to say goodbye?” Magnus asked in a daze. “I’ll just heal him. Let me grab some potions and then we will head right over.” Clary wasn’t making any sense.  _ Goodbye? Funeral?  _ Those words didn’t form complete sentences when next to Alec’s name. Every thought tangled into a jumble, and his heart raced at a dizzying speed. Is that why he felt lightheaded? 

Clary shook her head, “Magnus, come with me. We are going to help each other through this.” 

“My-my husband. I can’t go with you. He will be home soon, and I promised him that we would have dinner tonight together.” He tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his words were slurred. 

“Magnus, Alec died.” There was an explosion. A bright flash of blue that tossed Clary back into the hallway. The wall was obliterated, vases were shattered, and books were incinerated. It was nothing compared to the storm in his mind and heart. Yet, he could not move, his muscles didn’t even twitch. 

It was everything he ever feared, every heartbreak and torture he had ever been through all at once. There was no withstanding this kind of pain, you could only surrender and begin to drown in its depth. 

“Magnus!” He heard Clary call to him in his own personal Hell. “Magnus, listen to me, please!” 

There was a wail he could hear from the distance, he had little sanity left to wonder if he had hurt anyone in his grief. 

“Magnus, calm down! Please, stop screaming. I can help you.” 

He was not even aware he was screaming, could not hear the unintelligible words spewing out of his mouth. He found himself lying on the floor, curled into himself, items being thrown across the room, his magic far too out of his control. Clary laid next to him and pulled him close, rocking him back and forth as he sobbed. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She kept whispering into his hair. He could feel his mind slip into shock, and questions spun erratically through his mind. _Could I have helped him?_ _Was it quick? Did he suffer? How could he have died? How do I live without him?_

  
  


It took a few tries before his magic was stable enough to go to the Institute. Clary had portalled them the entrance, and as they walked in Shadowhunters bowed their head in respect to them. Their Head now gone, and his family left in mourning. His body shook as they walked through the halls, Clary leaning him onto her for support. 

His whole world had just shattered, how could this small mortal soul put it back together again? 

She walked him towards a room he knew intimately, at one point it was his only safe haven. Alec’s old bedroom. He wasn’t offended when Alec suggested that he keep his bedroom at the Institute, saying that it would be nice to have his own place still when he needed a rest, or wasn’t able to make it home. 

_ He didn’t make it home _ , Magnus thought. A whole new wave of agony crashed over him, and Clary held on tighter to keep him from falling. 

Before they even opened the door he could hear Jace crying unabashedly, begging his parabatai to not leave without him. “Alec, please don’t leave me.” He heard Jace cry. He was reminded that this pain was universal through their little makeshift family. That everyone in this room had lost a major support in their lives. Izzy stood to the side, tears streaming down her face with her head held high. Magnus knew she would break down when she was in private, and he could respect that. Maryse sat at the foot of the bed, her hand over her chest, staring vacantly at Alec, like the situation had not registered to her yet. Izzy rushed forward to Magnus and hugged him tightly. Magnus returned her hug, but his eyes were locked on Alec. 

He was a sickly gray color, his runes stark against his skin, his eyes were shut peacefully though, like he was just taking a nap after a long day. The blood however, told Magnus this was all true. This wasn’t a nightmare. Because even his nightmares weren’t cruel enough to be able detect the tang of blood, or the clammy feeling through your body, it could never show you the stillness of his husband’s chest. He had never had a nightmare like this before in his life. 

He imagined he’d have far more of them to come. 

“Alexander?” Magnus croaked, half expecting Alec to open his eyes, to smile at him and hold out his hand. Alec lay still on his bed. 

“Magnus, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there. This is my fault.” Jace said miserably. 

_ Yes, it is.  _ Magnus thought viciously. How could it not be? How could the man who swore to live, and fight, and die by Alec’s side remained safe within these walls while his husband died alone in an alley? 

_ And where were you? Sitting at home while your husband was murdered.  _ Like Jace, Magnus made oaths to Alec as well, and he failed him. So Magnus could never be angry at Jace, there was too much anger directed towards himself. 

Magnus felt numb when he sat on the edge of the bed next to Alec. He had no words or thoughts. What was one supposed to say when their very heart lay dead in front of them? 

“We can give you some privacy.” He heard Izzy say, a moment later he heard them all shuffle out, leaving him alone with the love of his life. 

For several minutes Magnus just stared, searing the image of his failures into his memory. So he’d never forget what he lost, and how he could have been saved. 

With an unsteady hand, Magnus stroked Alec’s cheek, and choked back a sob when he felt Alec’s cool skin. 

“Oh, my love. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Magnus cried. Focusing on the blood, Magnus snapped his fingers, cleaning Alec up, and changing him into a clean outfit. He looked like his husband again. He laid down next to him, resting his head on his husband’s chest, cuddling his body close, holding every inch of himself against Alec. It didn’t help. Not really, not when he couldn’t hear the steady thrum of his pulse. 

“You were supposed to come home. I was supposed to have a lifetime with you. To watch you hold our future children, and grandchildren. To live my life by your side, and adore every new wrinkle or gray hair you got. You would’ve hated that, growing old while I stayed young. I wouldn’t have cared though, you could never be any less beautiful. It would have been so special to me, to see the proof of the years of our life.” Magnus’s breath caught, suspended in his own hollow chest. He lifted his head to look at Alec’s face. He was still so beautiful. Magnus leaned up and kissed his cold lips, closing his eyes to savor the last one. His shoulders shook as he tried to contain his sobs. 

“I don’t know how to say goodbye to you, I don’t know how to live without you.” Magnus said with an honesty that edged desperation. “I should’ve been with you, I could have protected you.”

He had broken all his promises to Alec, and he would have to survive with that fact. There was one Magnus could make though, and knew with absolute certainty he could keep. He rubbed Alec’s chest with his hand, more to comfort himself than anything.

“You can take everything in me, Alec. I’m all yours. I promise, no one will ever mean anything like you meant to me. I’ll never love anyone like this again.” Magnus promised. “And I swear I’ll look after your family for you, no matter what.” 

Magnus stayed with Alec until the sun rose over the horizon, holding his hand until it was warm like his own. The others would creep in to look at Alec just one more time. Before the Silent Brothers would take him away, and cover him in white silk. 

“We’ll make it through this.” Clary said, hugging Jace from behind. 

_ I can't live without him.  _ Is all Magnus could really think in response. 

  
  
  
  
  


Hungover was too kind to describe what Magnus was feeling. It felt like his head had cracked open, his stomach rolled with nausea, and his mouth felt stuffed with cotton. Physically, he was miserable. Emotionally, he’d rather be dead. He couldn’t die yet, he promised Alec that he’d take care of his family. Magnus groaned and slowly eased himself out of bed. Isabelle had sent a fire message yesterday requesting the wards to be updated on the Institute. He was tempted to tell her to call Lorenzo, but he knew this wasn’t just about professional courtesy. 

It’s been exactly a year since Alec passed away. 

_ God, it feels like an eternity.  _

He started a hot shower and sank onto the tile floor, trying to clear his head before getting ready. His contact with the family had been minimal, and he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty for it. Every once in a while there would be a knock on the door, quiet reassurances that they would always be there when he needed to talk. 

He didn’t need to talk. He needed Alec. 

It was with great reluctance that he picked himself up off the floor, and the only reason he did so was because of his promise. He couldn’t wait for the hangover to go away naturally, so he grabbed a tonic from his apothecary that he kept in bulk nowadays. 

It took seconds for the sharp pain in his temple to disappear, and Magnus missed it already. It distracted him from every Hell he faced in his life. When he was blacked out on the floor he wasn’t aware that he was a widower. 

Magnus dressed plainly for this visit, he didn’t have the energy to put on multiple glittery layers, and style his hair. He looked in the mirror to see a pathetic version of himself. Unkempt hair, dark circles under his eyes, he had even lost weight. He didn’t look at all like the powerful warlock he used to be, and wondered if he ever really would again. 

  
  
  
  


Arriving at the Institute Magnus could sense the wards were strong, and didn’t need any fine tuning. He sighed when he realized he’d been lured out under false pretenses. It seems like Isabelle was done with being patient, and would be taking matters into her own hands now. 

“Don’t you dare walk out that door, Magnus!” Isabelle bellowed, her heels clicking on the floor. 

Magnus closed his eyes and prayed for patience, and turned to face his sister in law. “Hello, Izzy. The wards feel strong, so I assume this visit is about…” His throat closed. He couldn’t even say it out loud. A year without Alec and he was still in denial. A part of him hoping Alec would walk through the door and everything would be back to normal again.

“I just want to talk.” Izzy replied softly, as if talking to a wounded animal. 

“About?” Magnus rasped. 

“Let’s talk in private.” She said, reaching out to hold his hand as they walked to her office.  _ Her  _ office now that she was Head. She was reluctant to even take the job, not wanting to take her brother's place. It had been Magnus to convince her that she was perfect for the role. No one else would honor Alec’s vision of unity between the Downworlders like her, and no one would protect what he had already accomplished. 

Izzy pushed him gently on the couch across from her desk, and then sat next him, resting her head on his shoulder. They were quiet, both understanding that this wound about to be prodded at was far too sensitive for casual conversation. 

“How did he do this?” Izzy finally asked, he voice wavering. “I second guess every decision, I can’t get anyone in the Clave to listen to me, and I feel like I’m letting everyone down. How did he deal with the pressure?” 

Magnus kissed the top of her head, “Alec was a natural born leader, and not because he was bossy.” Izzy giggled at that, but he could already hear the sniffles as she held back tears. “He cared about everyone so deeply, his main goal in life was to see everyone around him safe. That’s what made him such a good leader. You and him share that quality. He had difficulties with this position too though, he was an openly gay man in love with a warlock. The Clave isn’t exactly known for their tolerance, so he had obstacles to overcome, and sometimes those obstacles very nearly broke him.” Magnus thought back to all those nights Alec had come home, shoulders slumped in defeat. “It doesn’t make you a bad leader to feel overwhelmed sometimes. You Nephilim seem to forget that even though you have angel blood, you’re still human.” 

“Alec didn’t seem human. He seemed like a hero.” Izzy whispered. 

Magnus’s eyes burned, “He was my hero.” 

  
  
  


There was one more room to stop by before heading home. While the conversation with Izzy was necessary, it was overwhelming. The next one he was about to put himself through would be unbearable. 

He knocked on Jace’s bedroom door, with no reply he knocked again. 

“ _ What?”  _ Jace hissed out through the door. It was very obvious that Jace was well aware of what today meant too. 

“It’s Magnus. I wanted to see how you were doing.” Magnus said. 

“Peachy.” Jace replied, still not opening the door. 

“Well, I’m not doing well at all, and I know you’re as miserable as I am. I’d like to talk.” 

Jace didn’t reply, but Magnus knew he was listening. He scoffed at Jace’s antics before raising his hands, blue light glowed between his fingertips.

“I will bust this door down, Jace.” Magnus warned. 

Finally, the door opened. Jace looked unimpressed, “What do you want to talk about?” 

Jace looked like hell, his hair was overgrown and beard scruffy. From the way he smelled, Magnus guessed he hadn’t seen the inside of a shower in days. 

“It’s been a year.” Magnus said. 

“You don’t need to remind me how long my parabatai has been dead.” Jace said through his clenched teeth. “I could count the very seconds he’s been gone.”

“Alright, since you’re in no mood for a sentimental conversation, I guess I’ll just be frank. Isabelle needs you to step up and help her run the Institute. She compares herself to Alec in every decision and feels like she’s falling short.” 

“Izzy is amazing at her job. She doesn’t need me to tell her that.” Jace argued.

“I think she might. It’ll mean more coming from the person who shared Alec’s soul to tell her that Alec would be proud of her.” Magnus took a deep breath, preparing himself to carve into his own chest. “I miss Alexander too, with every fiber of my being. I’d be a hypocrite to say to stop sulking, as I have been solidly drunk this past year, but what I am saying is that it’s time to make Alec proud ourselves. We can still hurt, and wish it had never happened, but we can’t close ourselves off anymore.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Over four hundred years old you’ve lost plenty of people you have loved. Alec was just another notch in your bedpost. Don’t act so self righteous.” Jace said scathingly. 

Sparks flew from his fingertips, and in seconds Jace was pinned to the wall of his bedroom. Magnus stalked inside and closed the door, giving them privacy. He wouldn’t hurt this stupid man, but he was tempted. 

“You think this is easy for me? That just because I’ve lost love before that Alec’s death hurts less?” Magnus glowered. 

“Oh, come on! You always knew you were going to lose him! You had time to prepare. I wasn’t supposed to lose my parabatai.” Tears glittered in Jace’s eyes, and the anger Magnus felt cooled. Alec always warned him that when Jace felt vulnerable he would attack where it hurt to make you hate him. Magnus wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“He was my first,  _ and last,  _ husband. When I made those vows to Alec, I didn’t say them to only last through Alec’s life, but mine as well.” Magnus walked near Jace as he let him down, Jace fell to his knees, and to Magnus’s surprise, did not get back up. He knelt to look Jace in the eyes, and pulled him in for a hug. Jace tensed, and Magnus thought he would pull away, but instead he leaned in closer, his breath heaving. 

“God  _ dammit,  _ he wasn’t supposed to leave me!” Jace wailed. “That fucking idiot! It should have been me. I asked him to be my parabatai because I couldn’t be without him, because I knew he made me a better person. Who the hell am I now?” 

“You’re Alec’s parabatai. That part of you that’s him is still there, and it always will be. So long as we remember and love him, we will never be without him.” Magnus whispered. 

Jace pulled away, leaning back against the wall. His whole body looked drained. “I miss his hugs. It sounds stupid and silly, but I could really use a hug from him.” 

“Yes.” Magnus murmured. He had spent many nights himself clinging to a ghost, desperate to feel Alec’s touch one more time. 

“I miss going on patrol with him. Sometimes, we’d go to this snow cone hut a few blocks from here when we were done. I know Alec tried to play it off, but that was his favorite part. He always got the blue raspberry. It was harder to take him seriously with a blue mouth.” Jace laughed, and wiped away his tears. 

Magnus snapped his fingers, and conjured up two blue raspberry snow cones. Jace smiled softly, and took one. They sat in an easy silence, remembering the good times with Alec as they munched on their cones. 

“I miss how he listened. It’s like you were the most interesting thing in the room.” Magnus said. 

“Well, to be fair, you were to Alec.” Jace snorted. 

Magnus's chest went warm, and he embraced it, he had been so empty for so long. “I’ve never met anyone like him.” 

Jace cleared his throat and turned to Magnus, “I’m sorry for what I said. I know you loved Alec, and I know that you’re in pain too.” 

“I  _ still _ love him. Nothing is going to change that.” Magnus reassured him.

“About that, I don’t want you to think that we wouldn’t support you if… you know you decide to date again.” Jace said, looking extremely uncomfortable. “I mean, obviously no one you date will be as good as Alec, but maybe they could be second best.” 

Magnus was touched by the sentiment, but Magnus knew it would be for nothing. He had met the love of his life, there would be no one again. 

“Thanks, but I don’t think that will be a problem.” Magnus said. “It had been a hundred years since I was in love when I met Alec, and that relationship wasn’t nearly as committed.”

Jace shrugged, “You’re immortal. Maybe one day. Everything is always maybe one day.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Slowly, they healed. Each of them knowing there would be a gaping hole that would never be filled, but they tried to live as if it wasn’t there. They celebrated each holiday and birthday, laughs and lively conversation would fill the room, but they could all hear the echo of the one voice missing. 

Magnus made sure to sit front row for any major life events. He was there for Izzy and Simon’s wedding, and for her promotion to Inquisitor. He helped them move their items to Idris, though he did decline her kind off of High Warlock of Alicante. He didn’t want to move, and was content in the home he made with his husband. 

He stood by Jace for his wedding, and designed Clary’s gown himself. He was there the day Oliver was born, and cried with Jace when he heard that they had named him after Alec. He cried even harder when Clary passed him the small cherub, and said  _ Here, meet your Uncle Magnus.  _

Alec should have been there for it all. But since he couldn’t, Magnus made sure he was. Then at night, in the privacy of his own home, he would open a bottle of wine, and sit out on the balcony. He’d stare into the night sky and tell Alec everything. He wasn’t sure if Alec would ever hear his prayers to him, but he would never stop. Just in case. 

  
  
  
  
  


They had lost Isabelle too soon, as was the Shadowhunter way. Once again, Magnus dressed in an all white suit and stood before an altar of silk. Her face was covered, but you could still make out her features, and the ebony of her hair. 

They let Magnus have a moment alone with her before the ceremony. It was no less gut wrenching than when it was his Alexander. He pulled up a chair and sat next to her, holding her hand through the silk. 

“When you find Alec, let him know that I miss him, and I think of him every day.” Magnus whispered, not wanting to disturb the eerie silence of the Institute. 

He stood next to Simon for the ceremony for support. He had sobbed in his arms the night before, begging for Magnus to tell him it wasn’t real. 

“How does anyone get over this?” Simon had asked. 

“It’s impossible to get over it, you just get used to it.” Magnus replied. 

And once again, they endured.

  
  
  
  
  


Magnus was drunk. Not a fun tipsy, not even a stumbling drunkard. He was  _ plastered.  _ He had long lost the glass he was using, so he drank straight from the bottle. It had been a bad day that started out decent. He was feeling productive so he cleaned his loft by hand, putting his mind to work as he meticulously placed his belongings back in order. Then he came across his calendar, and realized that it was their wedding anniversary. He had forgotten. It had been a slap in the face, to know that something so important had slipped his mind. It sickened him to know that he was losing a little more of Alec each day.

He fumbled out of the living room and onto the balcony, where he normally sat out to talk to Alec. Tonight, he had several words he needed to get out. Fury had gripped him, making his vision blotchy and his skin hot. 

“You  _ promised  _ me a lifetime!” He yelled at the cloudy night sky. “You told me in Edom that you were never leaving me again. You  _ lied!”  _

He tripped on his own feet, falling to the ground. He tried to pick himself up, but the dizziness hindered his progress. 

“You should’ve come home to me. Why couldn’t you have just come home?” Magnus’s voice broke, and angry tears fell, stinging his cheeks. 

“Alexander, just please answer me! Just give me a sign that you can hear me.” Magnus waited, looking for any small sign that his angel would be sitting with him. 

Magnus believed in ghosts, had sensed past lives go by him. Had seen Ragnor’s ghost and held a conversation with him. Yet the one person he wanted to hear from more than anything was silent. 

Completely silent. Magnus slumped onto the cold concrete in defeat, sobs bursting from his lips. “I just want to see you one more time, Alexander. Please, just give me  _ something.” _

The howling wind mocked him, laughing as it circled around him. Letting him know that he was truly lost. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Catarina was his rock after Alexander. She was the one person who understood the curse of immortality, and how being left behind is always worse than leaving. She didn’t tell him he was being ridiculous when he would refuse to leave his bed, wanting to stay in his dreams just a little bit longer. She never told him he was taking it too far when she would come in the morning to see his bottles littering the floor as he was passed out and soiled. 

She never once told him how it was appropriate for him to grieve. She would, however, give suggestions on how to move forward. 

“Look, I know this really nice girl from work. She's mundane, and she doesn’t know anything about the shadow world, but she’s still a good person.” Catarina argued, after he shut down her suggestion of a date. 

“What would her and I even have in common?” Magnus asked. 

“Well, she likes clothes.” Catarina said dumbly, “She likes a good bottle of wine.” 

Magnus rolled his eyes, “That’s about ninety percent of the population.” 

“Okay, so you and her probably won’t have much in common at all. But it’d make me feel better to see you out there again.” Catarina confessed. “Please. Just this one date and then you never have to hear about it for another decade.” 

Magnus sighed, “Catarina, I know it’s been fifteen years since Alec has passed, but I still feel like a married man. I don’t think that’s something that’s going to go away soon.” 

“Then if not now can you at least promise me in the future? Even if it’s three hundred years from now?” She asked, her face contorted with worry. 

“I’ll consider it when I’m ready.” Magnus promised. It was the most he could promise without lying. 

“That’s all I ask.” Catarina said, temporarily satisfied. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Magnus had never been a part of a mortal family before, and while he would never trade a single second of it, there were days he wished he could make it all stop. Stop the aging, and the dying, and them leaving him. Time was his worst enemy. 

They all knew Jace would be gone shortly, and he had been taken to Idris, so he could die in his family home. Magnus had said his goodbye before they left, not wanting to intrude on the few final days Clary and Ollie had left. 

Jace had been sitting in a plush chair, his slippered feet resting on the ottoman, and thick quilts wrapped around him. Magnus couldn’t remember watching him progress slowly like this, it felt like one day he was a cocky boy with golden hair to this aged worn man. 

The one thing that Jace had always kept was his wicked grin, and the trouble in his eyes. “Looks like my time will be up soon, huh?” Magnus would miss this Shadowhunter. He was his last tie to Alec.

“I suppose so.” Magnus replied, sitting in the chair opposite of him. Not much had changed in the room since Magnus had been there last the year after Alec had died. A few things had been arranged, more photos and Clary’s paintings hung on the wall. 

“I’m ready, Magnus. I really am.” Jace said earnestly. 

“I’m not surprised. I’ve been trying to keep you lot alive for years, with very little help from you.” Magnus quipped. Jace chuckled and settled deeper into the chair, wrapping the quilt tighter around him. Magnus lit the fireplace next to him with a flick of his wrist, and Jace smiled graciously. 

Jace looked nothing but serene, not at all worried for what was coming. “Are you scared?” He asked.

“I don’t think so.” Jace said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “I’ll miss my family, but I also miss the family I’ve already lost. I’m ready to go home, but I’ll still be homesick. If that makes sense. There is so much I can’t wait to tell Alec, that’s what I’m most excited for.” 

“I talk to him.” Magnus said, then felt embarrassed for his stupidity. 

“I do too.” Jace said. 

“Do you think he can hear us?” Magnus asked, vulnerability bleeding into his words. 

“I think if anyone can find a way to go above and beyond for his loved ones, it’s Alec. I’m sure he’s doing something for us, even if we don’t quite know what yet.” Jace said. “Are you scared?” 

Magnus jerked, “What do I have to be scared about? I’m not the one dying.” 

Jace gave him a knowing look, and Magnus deflated. “Terrified. Lonely. A little bit jealous.” 

“Jealous?” Jace asked incredulously.

“I want to see Alec too.” Magnus whimpered, his self control quickly dissolving. “The time I had with him is all I get to have. How does someone with demon blood ever get to go to the same afterlife as you Nephilim? When I die, I’ll be in Edom. I’m never going to see him again. Or any of you.” 

“I think Alec is going to take care of that too.” Jace said confidently. “He would never leave you behind.” 

“He wouldn’t have a choice.” Magnus scoffed. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, he had to expect the worst, so he’d never be disappointed by it. 

“I know I’ll see you again, Magnus.” Jace declared, and Magnus wondered if perhaps he had gone a little senile. “I have to, I’m not done stressing you out.” 

  
  


Jace died just a few short days later. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“You weren’t kidding when you said someday we’d be all that’s left.” Simon joked weakly. They had gone back to Magnus’s apartment for drinks after Clary’s funeral. She had managed to live long enough to see Ollie become Head of the Institute, but oddly they didn’t expect her to go just yet. She always managed to find a way to surprise them. 

Magnus passed him a glass of O- and then sat down with his own drink. Martini Monday. “Curse of immortality.” 

“I know Clary buried me because she felt she was saving my life, but I wish she would have let me die.” Simon said. 

Magnus raised his eyebrow, “Oh, you weren’t too impressive as a mundane. After you changed you saved several lives, married one the most beautiful women to walk the earth, and implemented changes in Idris. New York and the Downworld is a better place with you in it.” 

Simon stared in slack jawed shock, “Did you just compliment me?” 

“I’m feeling sentimental today. Don’t push it, Sam.” Magnus replied dryly. 

Simon leaned back in the couch, idly tapping at his glass. “So how does one spend the days of immortality without a family?” 

“We still have Catarina. Ollie and his children too.” Magnus said, but even he could feel that he was trying too hard. 

“Maybe we could renovate your loft.” Simon suggested. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Magnus asked. Sure, it was a bit plain. He had stored all of his antiques and priceless objects away when Ollie began to walk all those decades ago. Like his father, he was a troublemaker. Magnus just hadn’t gotten around to putting everything back. 

“It’s just not you.” Simon said.

Magnus disagreed. Everything that was in his loft was there- or not there- for a reason. The ornate rugs were gone, replaced with thick carpeting so when he babysat Ollie’s children they had a soft place to land when they played. Crystal chandeliers were replaced with practical lighting, ever since Ollie was dared by Madzie to jump and hang from it. What used to be red wallpaper, was now a bland off white color. It wasn’t his fault, the wallpaper mocked him on a particularly vulnerable night. The swirls of crimson reminding him too much of the blood he cleaned from Alec’s chest. 

“The only personal thing you have is the pictures.” Simon continued.

His photographs hung proudly on his walls, it was the only thing he never changed. Alec’s face looked back at him from every wall, and the only thing that hurt from looking at them was the fact that he wanted more of them. More memories, and smiles. He had once told Alec that his memory is far from immortal, but instead of putting Alec’s arrowhead in a box, he had made his whole loft into a shrine. 

“Don’t you think your apartment looks a little...sad?” Simon finished, his nose scrunched in distaste. 

“I’m not sure who you are to judge. You once lived on a dock sleeping in a kayak.” Magnus snapped.

Simon raised his hands in defense, “I’m just a mundane turned vampy. You’re the glamorous warlock here. Though, I can’t remember the last time you did your makeup.” 

“I’ve been busy, Seth.” Busy wallowing and working, and of course the regular drunken angry rants to the sky. Cursing any angel or god that would listen. 

“Well, I’m not. I’ll help you decorate. How would you feel about posters?” Simon asked, standing to walk the perimeter of the room. “You could use old bikes as decoration. Maybe like a flower pot in the bike basket. Very vintage chic.” He rambled.

Magnus groaned and retreated into his apothecary, magicking the door to keep out annoying vampires. As he heard Simon’s musings through the door, Magnus really wished Clary had let him die too. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Magnus used to fear that he would calcify if he set himself away from others, and didn’t make connections with anyone. He didn’t fear that anymore, or really fear anything at all. He knew it was starting. Nothing excited him, or worried him, or even hurt him anymore. Even the loss of his husband wasn’t nearly as painful as it was. 

He was also just  _ bored.  _ He felt like he was just living halfway, days just floating by him in a haze. 

He supposed that’s why he got confused on his potion ingredients. He realized it a second too late, it bursting in his hands before he had time to react. He didn’t feel himself fall backwards, and he certainly didn’t feel the impact of hitting the floor. 

He did feel a cool hand go through him and pull him up like he weighed nothing at all. Magnus searched the room and saw his body laying on the floor, his limbs looking crooked and his face bleeding.  _ Poor Catarina…  _ She would have to find him here. 

Magnus touched his chest, surprised to be able to feel everything again. He no longer felt enslaved in his own body, trapped under the suffocating unawareness. 

“That wasn’t meant to happen.” Magnus tried to joke. He looked up and saw a shadowy figure, and he couldn’t recognize any distinctive features at all. It was like looking in a dark fog, standing stoically. “I died? Huh, I thought I’d die in a gloriously fashionable way. Not by fucking up my potion.” Suddenly it hit him. He died. He was going to Edom. 

“I won’t join my father. I’ll do whatever I have to do, but I refuse to stand by him for all eternity.” 

The dark shadow cocked its head, as if studying him, like it had just uncovered some secret. “There is someone special waiting just for you, Magnus Bane.” The creature whispered.

  
  
  


Magnus followed the cloaked shadow down to a bridge, curiosity overruling his fear. Something caught his eyes just across from him, someone laying in the black sand. 

He would recognize him anywhere, in any universe. The messy black hair, broad shoulders and chiseled jawline. It was his husband. 

Panic overtook him, and he collapsed onto his knees. He should have known. His Hell wouldn’t be fire or burning. It would be watching the person that sustained his world die over and over again in front of him. 

“No, please don’t make me see him just to rip him away from me again. I can’t go through that again. I know I deserve Hell, but torture me any other way you can think of. Not like this though.” Magnus pleaded. He was beyond his own pride, he wasn’t afraid to beg anymore. 

Alec turned his head, and in his eyes Magnus saw deliverance. Suddenly, he didn’t care if this was his torture. He could manage through a hundred times over, as long as he could still hold his hand. 

He wasn’t aware of walking towards Alec, but then he was right in front of his husband. This wasn’t a trick from his father, or an illusion. He knew this to be  _ his  _ Alec. No other force could flawlessly design the freckles across his face, or the slight crookedness to his smile. 

Which meant Alec never crossed over. 

  
  


“Alexander, my love. What are you doing here? You should be in heaven.” Magnus scolded. There was so much he wanted to say, but his heart kept singing,  _ “I’m home, I’m home, I’m home.”  _

“I was waiting for you.” Alec replied simply. And,  _ oh _ , his voice was more beautiful than Magnus remembered. Alec cautiously lifted his hand, then gently stroked his cheek. A long forgotten tingle went down his spine at the touch, and he leaned in closer, savoring the warmth.

“Darling, you don’t belong where I’m going. You need to leave.” Magnus said. As much as he wanted to tuck Alec in and never let go, it was time for his beloved to go. 

“Then I’ll come with you. Don’t you get it? I can’t live without you.” Alec said. A flicker of pain crossed Alec’s face, “Unless… it’s okay if you moved on. I wasn’t the first and I always knew I wouldn’t be the last.” Alec pulled his hands away, but it was too soon, Magnus hadn’t had enough. He leaned in, needing Alec to hold him again. 

“I couldn’t love anyone else, everything inside of me died the day you did. You, Alexander Lightwood-Bane, are the love of my life.” Magnus said firmly. He saw the pretty blush dance across Alec’s skin, and then Alec was kissing him. He had never been kissed the way Alec kissed him, with pure love and devotion. Over a century of wanting, Magnus was finally where he loved most. “The love of my afterlife too.” He murmured when they separated.

He felt the shadow come up behind them, and it lifted its arm and pointed towards the impressive golden staircase, where Magnus assumed Alec was meant to go. 

“Not without Magnus.” Alec told the shadow. 

“Alec, hush. Go. You’ve earned this.” Magnus chided, though he knew someone would need to pry his hand out of Alec’s.

“So have you.” Alec declared firmly. 

They watched as the figure slowly nodded its head in agreement. Magnus gasped, “You mean, I can go with Alec?” 

Again, the figure nodded. 

Alec hugged him tighter, and said “Ready?” 

Magnus was still too shocked to reply, half afraid this was all a dream. Alec pulled him towards the stairs, never letting him go. Magnus looked up, the stairs reaching far too high for him to see the top. It would be a long climb, but he was just thrilled to do it with Alec. 

“Hey, wait.” Alec said, pulling out of Magnus’s arms. Magnus whimpered, his body locking up, bracing for the worst. Alec chuckled and rubbed his arms, “Relax, Magnus. I just need to say goodbye. Stay right here.” 

Alec hurried down the stairs, and Magnus could see him hugging the figure. He smiled at the sight, of course his beloved would make friends with a Reaper.

When Alec returned to him, Magnus clutched his hand, and Alec gave him a grin. 

“You really just sat there for over a century? Just for me?” He asked. 

“I just needed to make sure we would be together.” Alec shrugged. “I didn’t care where I would have to go to do that.” 

“What did I do to deserve you?” Magnus asked, in awe over his husband’s dedication. 

Alec laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ve had a lot of free time coming up with things you can do to pay me back.” 

Magnus leaned his head on Alec’s shoulder, “I can’t wait.” 

And together they walked into their eternity. 

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone who is following All My Life, this story was inspired by that one. I couldn't quite this one out of my head, but the next thing I post will be a new chapter to that story! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!


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